Jeanne G'Fellers - Sister Lost, Sister Found by Jeanne G'Fellers

around Rankil’s head and shoulders. She held Rankil still no longer than necessary but not without considerable effort. Rankil was strong, powered by muscles formed by tedious lifting chores. She’s a tough one.
    What choice has she had? Jewel cleaned the worst of the drainage and doused the area with the antibiotic oil. “I’m through, Rankil. Please don’t cry anymore.”
    But Rankil couldn’t stop. She let wave after wave of terrified sobs, releasing what hadn’t come of the assault. Kaelan and Jewel could do little more than comfort her as they did Myrla when she’d been scared or hurt, carefully rocking her. Terry and Archell were quick to add their input. Archell sang verse after verse of her favorite songs, each sillier than the last until all, Rankil included, laughed hysterically.
    “Sorry,” she mumbled when the trembling had eased and she’d downed the medicated water Jewel held to her mouth. “I acted like a little girl.” Her facial muscles twitched angrily with her words, but Rankil knew it meant there was no nerve damage. Disfigurement was another issue. “Will my scars be bad?”
    “There’s no harm in tears,” soothed Kaelan, pushing away the expected broadback resistance to emotional displays. “And, yes, you will have pronounced scars on your face and arms.”
    “But you won’t be the first Taelach with them.” Jewel pulled back her tunic collar, revealing a jagged circle on her shoulder. “I was run through during a Hunt when I was eight. One of my raiser’s almost died protecting me.”
    “So, I won’t be looked at strangely?”
    “No,” answered Jewel. “A scar is a mark of survival. If anything, it’s viewed as honorable.” She poured another measure of powders into the refilled mug. “Drink it all. You need the fluids and the medicine.”
    “Bitter. It’s making me sick.” Rankil’s complaint became a gulp when Archell turned up the glass.
    “Shush, Rankil,” he said in his most serious, non-rhyming boom of a voice. “Do as you are told.”
    The room began to tilt and rotate as Jewel’s medicines began to take effect. It was far different than the gentle numbing sensation of a phase, Rankil’s eyes crossing as focusing became difficult. “Jewel?”
    “Yes?”
    “You wear skirts.”
    “I do.”
    “So you’re a woman?”
    “Yes.”
    Kaelan chuckled as she eased Rankil’s head to the pillows. “Jewel is what we call a gentlewoman.”
    “Are you a woman, too, Kaelan?”
    Kaelan stifled a full laugh when Jewel poked her in the ribs. “Yes, Rankil, but I’m not a gentlewoman.”
    “Then what are you?”
    “The Taelach call my kind broadback. Auts have many terms for my kind, but none of them are flattering or correct. In essence, I care for my family and protect them from harm. You’ll understand as you grow older.”
    Rankil puzzled over the explanation. “I’m growing tall and strong. Will I be like Kaelan?”
    “All Taelachs grow tall and strong.” Jewel pulled the covers to Rankil’s chest and placed her arms across the top, happy to see that the angry red lines were beginning to recede. “Time will tell you where your heart lies. You’re at a confusing time in your development. Not being raised by your own has made it more so.”
    “Will I ever be accepted?” Rankil allowed her burning eyes to close.
    “Our plans are for you to be presented to our clan next spring.” Kaelan smiled over to Jewel whose face could not hide her delight. “You’re too young to be considered independent so you’ll be presented as our child.”
    “Yours?” Rankil’s eyes popped back open. “But you just met me. You don’t know a thing about me.”
    “We know you need us.” Jewel stroked away the moisture beading on Rankil’s forehead. Her fever was breaking, a sign that made her leaving easier. “And Archell can join us if he wishes. All are welcome as long as they follow the clan laws. I believe Kae would back him.” Kaelan put the medicines on the